Kriegcraft: Cataclysm
by Uncle WAAAGH
Summary: The world of Azeroth is in trouble. Between the forces of Chaos, The Scourge and the calls of the old gods, Azeroth needs heroes. Unfortunately for everyone, said "hero" is not exactly happy about saving it. Grenadier 652733-172948 'Klaus' must take up his mantle and save his new home, or die trying.
1. Chapter 1: New Beginnings

_Hey, its Uncle._

 _Here is the first Chapter of Kriegcraft: Cataclysm._

 _Chapters wont be too consistent as I continue to work on my novel._

 _But here you go. Enjoy._

 _The foundries within the vast underground bunkers of Krieg were hard at work. Within these classified chambers stood massive spires of glass and fluid, ancient structures granted by the Ministratum to the soldiers of Krieg. It was here that the generations of soldiers, legions of biological clones would march from their tanks and be led to the battlefield to die in the glory of their undying patron, saint, and lord; the god emperor of man. Each of the vitae wombs stood at least six stories tall, covered with thousands of glass pods and hundreds of delicate tubing and wiring fuelling these biological furnaces. All that was needed was a genetic code and enough biomass. Biomass sourced from imported products from other world and the recycled material of stillborn soldiers. Upon a single command from the Mannmachers, these vitae wombs would begin the process of making thousands of guardsmen in less than an hour. The biological sludge would force its way into the pod and begin to replicate the genetic template provided with disturbing alacrity. In five minutes, an embryo was formed. In ten, a roughly human shaped creature could be observed. In twenty, features would begin to develop. Skin, eyes, noses and fingers. In thirty, the limbs would be fully developed, along with any other appendages. In forty minutes, the process would near completion. All that would remain where any internal organs that were left over and possibly any extremities. In fifty minutes, the pod's would lower themselves to the ground and discard their cargo. From the green and yellow fluid they would be released onto the ground, stuck in a complacent mood as their brain would be in a drugged state and would have yet to fully form. That came later. From here, a basic inspection would be carried out based on the model number they originated out. Minor mutations from the original formula, such as different skin color, different color eyes, or lumps and tumors were dismissed and were properly taken care of. Anything else and they would be shunted outside in the desolate wastelands above, only to be herded into ruined cities and structures, where they would be target practice for aspiring artillery crews and for breaching and clearing squads of guardsmen._

 _Mannmacher [REDACTED] watched as the process of creation took place in front of him. He thought the process was beautiful, a marvel to see. He genuinely weeped when his creations were taken to the surface, and was happy to see others pass examinations and be rounded up into memetic and psychological training facilities. His life work was simply this. To make the best guardsmen the Imperium of Man could possibly hope for._

" _They are beautiful, are they not?" He asked quietly, addressing the Inquisitor who stood behind him, simply watching the marvel infront of him._

" _These things are an abomination to the omnissiah itself. I am surprised the Adeptus Mechanicus have never come knocking on your vaults doors," The Inquisitor grumbled. [REDACTED] simply chuckled, glancing back at the vitae wombs._

" _They provide results. They do not know fear, they ignore pain, and they follow orders without the letter," He simply replied. The Inquisitor huffed, glancing back at [REDACTED]_

" _How do they prove to be so loyal?" He asked curiously. [REDACTED] smiled in return, glancing at the inquisitor._

" _Their brains have been modified to the extent that they must follow orders. Always. Regardless of their superior, they will obey."_

" _And what happens if one of them go… rogue?"  
_ " _Impossible."_

" _In the offcase that they do?"_

" _Theoretically speaking, they would not last long. Without orders from superiors or officials to serve, their bodies will begin to shut down. They don't just follow commands, they need them. Why do you ask?"_

" _Just curious to what would happen if one of them escaped conditioning."_

" _There's a reason why any guardsmen listed as MIA are eventually put into the KIA category, and it isn't to the safeguard."_

" _Death squads?"_

" _Reclamation squads. Once they find an MIA they must determine whether they have broken their conditioning. If they deem them safe, they may return to their platoon. If not… then you can assume the results."_

" _I suppose so. So, [REDACTED] what if I gave you an offer?"_

" _Pardon?"_

" _I require some clones. One hundred of them. For my research"_

" _One hundred? That number is far too small! The vitae womb won't be able to sustain a number of clones so small without the risk of catastrophic failure!"_

" _As an Inquisitor, you will do what I say, or their WILL be punishments. Do I make myself clear?" Silence followed._

" _Yes, inquisitor."_

" _I have the genetic templates that I wish right here. I assume you will be giving them numbers."_

" _Yes… yes of course." [REDACTED] mumbled, as he began to scribble down the identification codes, though only half of the code could be made readily available. He wrote down the first code. 652733._

/

 _Three months after the events of the Epilogue_

/

The red deserts of Kalimdor always proved to be an issue for Grenadier 652733-172948 'Klaus' of the 5th Death Korps of Krieg Siege Regiment.

"I hate sand. It's rough, irritating, and keeps seeping into my fucking filters," Klaus grumbled, fixing the filters that adorned his mask. His black greatcoat was stained with specs of sand, as the wind that slashed through the air were full of the little buggers. His orange lenses reflected the dying sun, the light rays refracting over the metal pieces of armor that had been sewn onto his coat. In his hands he held his bolter, which in this case, he had wrapped up in a loose coat of fabric to prevent any sand from getting in the finer pieces. His steel studded boots kicked up another cloud of sand in frustration, only to coat himself in the stuff.

"We are almost there, Klaus! Just a bit further!" Jaina Proudmoore shouted, as the encroaching sandstorm was slowly becoming worse.

"By the emperor Jaina, these gnomish maps better be correct, or I'll strangle the little abhumans myself!"

As they approached a small dune, Jaina walked into something solid. Hard, and metal. Brushing the sand away as best as she could, the ruler of Theramore could see the aquila. The symbol of the Imperium.

"Klaus… I found it!"

The guardsman focused his attention in the structure in front of them. It appears they had uncovered just what they were looking for.

Klaus walked up to the structure, tapping. Nothing but solid metal. He continued to tap around, until he heard something hollow.

"Cadia! Now, time to cut," he said, grinning slightly, as he took out his power sword, flicking on the power field.

The sword was coated with a blue field of light, as he pushed it through the metal. It began to melt, red hot sparks shooting out as he slowly but surely cut a hole through it. This wasn't really what the sword was meant to be used for… but it still worked just fine.

Eventually, a hole had been cut through the metal wall. Klaus gave it a light push, as the molten metal sheet tumbled down something. Stairs.

Klaus held up his power sword, using the light that emanated from the sword to illuminate the path.

"Refresh my mind. Why exactly are we looking for imperial technology?" Jaina asked quietly, as the two of them began to descend down the staircase.

"So no one else gets their hands on it. The sanctity of these relics must be preserved, and I won't have anyone else touching them."  
Jaina started to try and wring out the sand that had got stuck in her long blonde hair while she glanced over at Klaus, smirking; "Like Lolewack?"

"I had Lolewack forfeit over any imperial technology, including any and all maps of their records. He was hesitant at first but I am a very… persuasive man."

Jaina furrowed her eyebrows at this statement, not exactly happy with his techniques.

"Holding someone at gunpoint is hardly persuasion."

"It still worked, did it not?"

"I only wish you were more rational about how you talked to people. Holding up someone by the collar and putting a plasma pistol in their mouth is hardly polite, and most people are going to hold grudges."

"Let them hold their petty grudges. It means nothing to me Jaina."

The staircase ended, leading to another door. This time, it was already open. Klaus slowly walked inside, waving the power sword around to try and see something.

"Jaina, you have anything better?" He asked, giving the mage a sideways glare. She took out her staff, sliding it off her back via a sheathe he had created just for her. She let out a few words of power, before a trio of fireballs were released into the air.

Klaus did not like magic. In fact, he despised it. Jaina had offered him lessons in trying to teach him magic. He refused them every time. Magic in Azeroth worked differently than it did where he came from. There were far more different… "types" of the stuff, and each one made him paranoid. In his opinion it was easier when there was only one place you could draw the powers of the warp from. Well, The Warp. Here there was Arcane, Elemental, Fel…

"Klaus?"

He snapped out of his trance, glancing at Jaina before the area around him.

Science apparatus filled the area around them. Dissection tables, cabinets full of beakers… cryostasis pods?

Klaus investigated them in interest, his fingers brushing off the coats of dust that covered the glass and plasteel structure. Inactive.

This place seemed to only confirm his theories. The Imperium had been here back when Azeroth was much younger, possibly for scientific research. But why?

Klaus began to examine the ruined laboratory in more detail, scrounging around for information or anything useful. While he searched, he did find another room. Opening the door, he found a figure he was not expecting. When he did, he almost felt tears welling his eyes. Jaina shadowed the guardsman as he walked closer to the power armored figure.

The figure was at least nine feet tall, slumped down. It's magnificent golden armor was covered in dust, and the weapon that was so sacred in the imperial cult seemed to have been damaged beyond repair.

"What is that?"

Klaus gave the mage a sideways glance, before he knelt down, bending his head down so that he could only see the figures toes.

"A custode. The holy guardians of the emperor himself."

Jaina looked up at the now dead custode, before down at Klaus. She chose to say nothing, simply leaving the guardsman to do his thing.

Klaus was still there, praying for the spirits deliverance to the golden gates when Jaina shouted something.

"Klaus! I think you might want to see this!"

Klaus rose up from his sitting position, giving the custode a nod of respect and gratitude.

"Thank you for your service," he quickly whispered, before he left the small room.

Klaus doubled back to Jaina's position. She had opened a locker of some sorts. A fossilised skeleton was all that greeted him, followed by… some sort of machine. It was small, able to fit in Klaus's palm.

"An audio player of some sort. A miniature vox unit?"

"Klaus, in common, please?"

The guardsman sneered at her, before he looked back at the machine.

"I believe it is a recording unit. A machine that can record audio and replay it at the users leisures. Perhaps the owner-" he said, pausing to point at the skeleton, before looking back at the machine; "used it to further their research."

He looked up, scanning the other lockers.

"Crack them open. Whatever they were researching, it must have been important."

Jaina obliged, as with a burst of power, she turned each of the doors into nothing but ice. Klaus smashed each one up with a good kick. Most of them were empty, but the last locker they opened had a binder of some sort.

Klaus smirked, as he grabbed the binder. It was practically brimming with aged papers, well preserved by the arid environment. He opened it slightly, skimming through them, only to smile even more.

"It's all in high gothic. It might take me some time, but I should be able to translate it."  
"That's great! Maybe we can learn more about what they were doing here!"

Loathe to admit it, there was always something about how Jaina was always so curious to learn that made him somewhat happy. She was almost like a child, despite probably being a lot older than he was.

"You can prepare the teleportation spell. I have the charges."

Jaina rose an eyebrow, now suspicious.

"Charges? What do you mean, charges?"

To that, Klaus pulled out a pair of gnomish explosive packs. It didn't take long for Jaina to realise who she got it from.

"Lolewack?"

"A favor for me endorsing his shop. With business booming, we made a deal."

"That being?"

Klaus knelt down, planting one of the gnomish explosives on the support beams. Though destroying the technology was not something he wanted to do, he would not let anyone else despoil it. Loathed to admit it, the effects of the past year were too much for this primitive mudball. It was better this way.

"I would help test his latest weapons and inventions, and if I liked them, I could keep them. Free of charge."

"Sounds like a good deal."

"It is. Now… where is that detonator?"

Klaus patted his pockets, before he pulled the detonator out of his coat, twirling it around in his fingers as he got it into position. With his other hand he set the next explosive charge. He stepped back, glancing at Jaina.

"Rune?"

Jaina nodded, as she began to cast the rune of teleportation. Blue sigils and runes formed on the metal ground. Klaus did not enter it. Not yet.

"Klaus, what are you doing?"

"The explosives wont go off If i'm kilometers away. It's proximity based."

"So… you are going to set off the explosives… like, ten feet from where we are?"

"The sum of it, yes."

Klaus pulled the trigger, leaping into the teleportation rune. The arcane glare blocked his vision, before they had reappeared in her chambers.

Jaina rolled her eyes at his brazen stupidity, while Klaus eagerly eyed over the notes in his hand.

"You'll know where I am going to be for the next few hours."

"Don't go crazy, and be back by sunset. We will be having guests."

At the mention of that, Klaus rolled his eyes. Great. The King's idiotic son was going to be here. Either that or the orc warchief...

"Very well. I will return soon enough."

/

Klaus opened the door to his room, glancing around.

His quarters was really just a hastily improved storage room. Apparently this is where all the chairs used to be. Oddly enough, he didn't have any chairs now. Made him wonder where they put them all. The room wasn't that bad… it had a window of the surrounding cityscape, a simple cot he got off the streets, and a couple of cabinets he could put the three pairs of clothes he owned; his undershirt and pants, a pair of leather shirt and pants, and a wool shirt and pants. No socks though, he had to use the one pair he had from Krieg. Or steal some from Jaina, which admittedly he did on two occasions.

He shook his head clear of these distractions, setting the binder down on his bed. Klaus began the procedure of removing his wargear from his body, one that usually took at least ten minutes. He delicately slipped off the greatcoat, hanging it on one of two pairs of racks that he had purchased. The other was for all of his weapons.

First was his prized gilded bolter, a weapon to which deal righteous justice to heretics, heathens and xenos alike. He kept the stashes of ammunition in a cabinet to the side of the weapon, as carrying it with him constantly always had proved to be a burden.

Next was his plasma pistol, one from the forges of mars. It was much easier to carry, and one that he could effectively dual wield with his sword. While it was not as powerful as Astartes pattern pistols, it still had a purpose.

After that was his sword. A power sword he had taken a long time ago. Countless undead, daemons, and heretics had been felled with this weapon. Tried and true, he never found it lacking.

Finally, was the shield. The most recent addition to his arsenal, he still had to yet to find a well, useful purpose for it. He still needed time to train with it.

"Hey asshole, now that the internal monologuing is over, can we get to the good part?"

"For once, I agree with him. We must declassify these documents!"

Klaus rolled his eyes, looking at the two figures on his shoulders. He didn't know exactly when he began to develop what could be schizophrenia, but essentially he had two, annoying and little versions of himself at all times.

There were two of them. One for each fracture of his psyche, he assumed. One was just called Grenadier Klaus, while the other was called Priest Klaus. Not official names but it was the best he could do. Both did not like each other, both argued with each other constantly, and both made the guardsman want to rip off his ears.

"Agreed, agreed…" he mumbled, reaching for his bag to pull out the imperial primer. The primer was essentially a handbook for most tasks. Cooking, maintaining equipment, and a horrific misportrayal of combat against xenos. It really wasn't helpful in that aspect, but there was one important thing. It was all in high gothic. Klaus was made to remember this book from beginning to end. He could cross reference the text in the primer to the documents, and hopefully try to get enough information that he could fill in the holes himself.

Klaus opened a drawer that formed as a nightstand for his bed, pulling out a pair of reading glasses, prescribed for his somewhat fuzzy vision. Fixing them on, the guardsman looked through the papers, noticing something. A few purity seals, with… the Adeptus Mechanicus?

It made some sense, but only for a moment. Where they into this? Did the emperor send them here, or did they go on the behalf of the Omnissiah?

He went back to reading. It became a repetitive motion. Going through the ancient texts, looking at the primer for reference. Klaus paused the process to grab a pencil, just to make things easier.

After nearly three hours, Klaus had managed to decipher at least… two pages. Out of hundreds.

From what he garnered, the expedition to Azeroth was headed by a form of senior researcher. The dimensional portal was a form of experimental webway. The researchers knew they would not be able to head back until the webway system was improved, as it was essentially one way. The custode was given to them as a form of defence. According to the data at hand, they originally came here somewhere around the three thousand year mark. With what little history of Azeroth he had, that would have been around the so called "Troll Wars". A period of time when the trolls and high elves fought each other in total war.

There were still plenty of areas of the document he had no clue of what they meant. If only Legion was still here.

Klaus glanced at the sun outside, which was getting ready to set. He had around two hours before he had to be back for dinner.

"Time to check on the gnome."

/

Coming in the store, Klaus only whistled. The little ginger was nothing but determined to improve his craft. His modest selection of gadgets that looked like they were made from scrap and trash now actually looked nice. Display cases that held impressive trinkets, jewelry, and weapons lined the storefront. Lolewack Geargrinder also had help now. Instead of running the shop himself, he had two assistants. Klaus only met them briefly, but from Lolewack's ramblings about them he knew good enough. A lazy but charming night elf, and a hardworking but sourpuss dwarf.

Seeing him enter, Lolewack gave off a wild smile, giving the guardsman a big wave. Klaus merely replied with a quick nod of his head.

"Hey there buddy! Been awhile?"

"Two days ago is awhile?"

The gnome merely shrugged, as Klaus walked up to the main counter. It seemed that the shop was closing for today, judging by the lack of people and some empty spots in the cases.

"For a gnome everything is awhile. Say Klaus, I gotta thank you. Ever since yer endorsement, business has been boomin! Boomin I tell ya!"

"That's good to hear. The third month of our bargain is coming to a close."  
"Ah right… the bargain. Alright, come on."

Lolewack stepped down from his chair, walking over to one of the backrooms. Klaus and Lolewack entered the supply closet, shutting it, and locking it afterward.

Klaus reached over to the side of the room, pushing a hidden button. The sounds of stones moving and wood creaking filled the air, as a secret staircase revealed itself. The wooden floor peeled back, settling itself within a storage mechanism. Lolewack grabbed one of the lanterns that was hanging in the closet, and began to walk down.

"So following your request of better armor, I made three armor prototypes. Pick any one of them you like, the rest I'm shipping off to my niece."

"The niece in Ironforge?"  
"Yep. That one."

"What does your niece need experimental armor for?"

Lolewack did not answer the question, as the staircase lead to another door. Lolewack reached into his pants, pulling out a ring of keys. He sifted through them, before he handed it off to Klaus. Klaus took the key and shoved it in the lock. With a little push, the door opened. Lolewack stepped inside, turning a lever.

Several coils began to produce electricity, giving the room a constant if not distracting blue spark. Klaus looked around, somewhat surprise at what he was seeing.

"Alright big boy, lets run through them," Lolewack said, as he walked up to the five suits of armor. They were all standing in a line, and as of the moment was nothing but leather armor.

"It isn't much to look at, believe me. I wanted you to pick a module before I would integrate it into your armor."

"I see. What am I looking at?"

Lolewack approached the leftmost suit of armor, giving it a tap.

"Try it on. It generates a powerful force field that can deflect objects heading at high velocity. It can recharge itself, but it needs a whole day. Won't stop a sword, but can stop an arrow or a bullet."

Klaus's interest was piqued, as he fit on the chest piece with relative ease. The module itself was a somewhat large metallic cylinder that was stitched on to the back of the chestplate. Lolewack walked up to a cabinet, pulling out a somewhat small pistol.

"Lolewack, have you ever tested these things?" Klaus asked, skeptical about the fact the gnome was about to shoot him nearly point blank. To that, the gnome rolled his eyes.

"Of course I have! What do you think I am, some goblin?"

The gnome pulled the trigger, firing a shot. Black smoke poured out the barrel, as the lead ball smashed into an invisible field of energy. Klaus felt a portion of the impact, and metal pinging. Lolewack bent down, picking up the now dented ball.

"How many shots can this deflect in a row?"

"Five? Maybe six? Don't run into a gunline."

Klaus nodded, taking the chestpiece off and putting it back on it's rack. He walked over to the next one, mildly excited.

"This one here is a doozy. This one can turn you partially invisible for a short while. Perfect for sneaking up on someone."

"Fascinating…"

Klaus slipped the piece of armor on, nothing that this one was somewhat heavy. There was a button on the collarbone section of the tunic, one that he pressed.

It took a few moments, but Klaus's skin began to fade away, turning translucent before not being there at all. It took several more moments, but eventually Klaus was invisible. Moving his hands around, he could see it wasn't perfect. He could barely see his own outline, and he distorted the area around him.

"Can't turn ya completely invisible, but this is close enough. Same thing with the other suit regarding powering it, but this baby would take nearly a week."

Klaus turned off the invisibility module, watching his skin turn back to normal. He slipped it off, going to the next one.

"This one… hoo, it's a doozy. This bad boy can inject you with whatever kind of potions you want or need. All you have to do is fill the cylinder prior. I came up with my own formula while tinkering."

Klaus put the armor on, kneeling down as Lolewack poured something into the module. A long wire and a tiny needle unwrapped from the module. The gnome grabbed this wire, holding it up to Klaus's wrist.

"I'll administer a micro dose… now."

Klaus felt a pinprick of pain, before he felt an odd sensation. Klaus suddenly got… angry.

"Feeling it?"

"Feeling like I want to strangle you."

"Good, good. See this stone tile? I want you to punch it. Hard."

Klaus glanced over at the tile, one that was held in place by rope and suspended in the air. That tile would look better if it was nothing but ash.

Fulfilling it's destiny, the guardsman lashed out at the tile with a punch, breaking it in half. Lolewack only smirked, glancing at a watch on his wrist.

"And you should be coming down… now."

Groans of pain filled the air, Klaus rubbing his now bleeding knuckles.

"I call it Zerker Juice. Makes you stronger and improves adrenaline production, but you are going to get pretty hungry. There are some flaws in the formula, and some side effects may occur."

"No pain suppressors?" Klaus asked, somewhat disappointed. Lolewack shrugged.

"Didn't think you would actually punch the damn thing," he said, pausing to wipe his brow.

"So… whatcha picking?"

Klaus glanced over the modules, troubled.

"I'll have to give my results tomorrow. Lady Proudmoore needs me at this time."

"Alright then chief, I'll see ya in the morning."

/

The cold, barren, and scarred lands of Northrend was a host to a continent wide battleground. Ever since the incursion of Chaos into the world of Azeroth, the forces of chaos vowed for control over the territories of the frozen wastes. Between Chaos, The Old Gods, and The Scourge, it seemed that the evils of the world were too preoccupied with their fighting to look at fresher pastures. Between the bloodlust, hidden agendas, and total war, they were certainly well occupied.

In order to keep tabs on what had happened, The Argent Dawn had been repurposed and revitalized. They had merged with the Scarlet Crusade. Recruitment campaigns from Stormwind to Orgrimmar had been pushed hard, as they now acted as the jailors of the forces of evil in Northrend. With bases stretching the southernmost coast, and tens of thousands of forces to spare, they reigned in the troublesome elements of this untamed land.

Warlord Sualk watched the patrols of the Argent Dawn closely, fixing the pair of rusted binoculars to his eyes. The snowstorm provided good cover for their movements. The demonically infused guardsman slid back down into his hiding spot. He had a brother on this planet. Klaus. Their uniforms were somewhat similar, though his had less armor and was shaded black and red instead of black and gold. The star of chaos was smothered by snow, soot, and blood, while his red tinted lenses peered into his followers.

His Warband had been fighting both the undead and the legions of old gods, and the Argent Dawn for nearly three months. It had been nothing of a blur. While he wanted to move on from the slaughter, his bound greater daemon, Aetozar, was enjoying the constant slaughter. It fed the daemon more and more souls, only making it more powerful than ever before.

The Warbands plan was simple. The Argent Dawn base of operations in this part of Northrend, at the tip of Howling Fjord had access to the only shipyards on this part of the continent. Sualk and a group of elite troops would try to secure as much ground around the base, before they would siege it, steal the ships, and sail off to Quel'thalas. Here, we could begin to enact his plans.

He turned his head to the side, glancing at the chosen warriors he brought along for this mission.

By his side was Saumvot The Bloated. Not an official title mind you, but the original was far too long, so Sualk simply shortened it. Saumvot was one of the few Nurgle Champions who entered through the dark portal to bring desolation to the world of Azeroth. Unfortunately, that's not how the invasion really played out. Saumvot towered over the rest of the squad, and was considerably wider. His fat bloated gut stuck out nearly a foot from his torso, the ceramite practically melding with his festering flesh. Saumvot had the remnants of a heavy bolter in his hands, and what he could assume was the ammo pack that curled up his spine. Thick tendrils of flesh wrapped around the heavy backpack, filled with contagion ridden bolt rounds. A constant cloud of flies lived and died around the plague champion. Maggots were constantly writhing out of his skin, devouring the flesh that grew back just as fast as it was consumed. They then died, being absorbed by the caustic soup that was his skin to restart the cycle all over again.

To his right was Zasgond. Zasgond was a Herald of Khorne, one that he tempted into reality before the portal had closed completely. The magic of this world sustained their demonic forms, allowing them to stay as long as they wished, or until their physical body was destroyed. Zasgond was spindly and tall, though not as intimidating as Saumvot. In his hand was the familiar flaming hellblade of all daemons of Khorne, the god of war, blood, and skulls.

Sualk had very few forces from the original invasion left, and as the Warlord of what was left, he had to improvise with the races native to this planet. They held… a modicum of promise.

Ru'don was the leading chieftain of the Ice Trolls under his command. Under the promise of protection from the wrath of the scourge and old gods, they pledged their allegiance to him. Ru'don was a potent warrior and a fearsome combatant, who held promise under the gods dark gaze. Sualk and Ru'don did not exactly talk much. Mostly because Troll's 'accents' was not pleasant on the ears. He couldn't imagine keeping them around as slaves without giving their voice boxes a little snip.

Finally with him was Thushet. A draenei paladin who gave her soul to Slaanesh, The Prince of Desires. Her once holy armor had now been desecrated, marks to the gods of chaos adorned all over her crystalline and steel forged armor. Sualk thought it was fitting. They already looked like daemonettes.

"So whats da plan mon?" Ru'don asked quietly, as in the distance, they could see a couple dozen of torches, slowly heading towards them.

"Simple. We should avoid the patrols, kill them if necessary. There is a secondary base of operations, not too far from here. We can take the base for our own. I can open a portal for a short time, allocating the warband to our location. Once we do so, we will attack the Argent Dawn shipyard. We must take as many ships as we can."

"YOU TIRE OF THE CONFLICT?" Zasgond demanded, enraged at the concept of fleeing a battle. Sualk rolled his eyes.

"We are not fleeing. Merely… taking the fight to more worthy opponents. I tire of slaying zombies and ghouls, and I don't mind a vacation."

Saumvot let out a wheeze, cocking his heavy bolter as he did.

"Taking the secondary base should be our top priority."

"Agreed. Stick to the shadows for now… our time will come."

With that command, they began to move out. Normally it would have been essentially impossible for them to go unnoticed, but the howling wind and brutal snow proved the ample cover. Visibility was down to only a few meters for most mortals, but Sualk's enhanced vision could pierce through the shroud of frost and darkness.

A patrol of ten were approaching in their direction, illuminated by several lanterns and torches.

"We could comfortably take out this patrol. Another rotation won't be coming for at least another twenty minutes," he said quietly, analyzing them. He heard something behind them, and before he knew it he saw the Herald of Khorne among the patrol, cutting them into pieces. There was screaming, as the flaming blade decapitated heads and cleaved men in twitching halves. He only rolled his eyes, as the daemon of khorne killed the final crusader, devouring his still beating heart in front of his own eyes. Sualk chose not to say anything. At least for now, the path was clear.

"Good... good work, Zasgond. I commend you taking 'initiative'," Sualk said awkwardly. He was hoping for a more stealthy approach, but he supposed a good bit of murder here and there was necessary for the plans of chaos.

"Let us move on. The secondary base camp can't be far."

The five of them moved past the bleeding bodies, only dumping them deeper into the snow so that they would not be discovered.

"Tell me boss… do ya feel anything for killin ya own kind?" Ru'don asked quietly. Sualk gave the troll chieftain a parting glance, scoffing as he did so.

"Not really. They mean nothing to me. Only an obstacle to be overcomed."

"Warlord, how exactly do you plan on teleporting the warband to our location? Your power has been waning for some time."

Sualk gave the Nurgle Champion a venomous glare, before he continued.

"The wards these bastards put up certainly hasn't done me any favors. However, given some time I should be able to bring a decent amount of them to our location. The rest of them… they might have to stay here."

Suamvot did not say anything, his twisted helmet only turning to Thushet.

"Do you still feel it? This… Light?"

The draenei shook her head, choosing not to say anything.

 _You know… we have not sacked xeno's cities in quite some time…_

Sualk glanced at his blade, a daemon weapon only known as The Black Blade. It was a sword of modest length, with the blade of the weapon being made of glassy obsidian and shards of the warp itself. Within this weapon, a being that defied logic and the laws of reality dwelt, imprisoned for all time. A dark covenant that they had both signed together. Well… not really.

Sualk had heard the greater daemon's whispers, and he only replied in turn.

 _Perhaps, but it is probably better to focus on the mission at hand._

 _Agreed…_

It took nearly an hour of trudging through the thick snow and sullen silence, until finally in the distance, was the secondary base. It acted as a sort of mining base, drawing from rich veins of iron and copper for use in the war effort. At least a couple hundred people were here. Paltry numbers really.

"Zasgond, Ru'don, and I will make a distraction. Saumvot, take Thushet and approach the rear. Leave no survivors."

As one, they acknowledged him. They acknowledged him as warlord.

After losing the major battle near Icecrown Citadel, the forces of chaos had been routed. Crushed. The scattered tribes of mutants, daemons, chaos space marines and heretics fought each other, having their own petty quarrels. Though there were still plenty of factions out there, Sualk had conquered at least a few of them. Most of his most loyal followers had fallen in battle.

"Zasgond, focus on any spell casters. Ru'don, watch my rear. I'll take the front."

"AS YOU DEMAND MASTER."

"I got ya mon."

The mining post had a small wooden wall, more of a barricade than anything, and a simple wooden gate. Sualk unsheathed the daemon weapon, glaring at the gate. He stopped walking, as he began to channel his power into a high powered lance. Energy as black as the void pooled out of his fingers, arcing into the tip of his blade, until he pointed it at the gate, and released it. Almost like shooting a bow, a caustic bolt of energy was released from his hands, obliterating the gate, turning it into a smoking and melting piece of wood. Sualk brushed past it, preparing a shield in the back of his mind as he casually strolled into the camp. Already, dozens of swords, guns, and bows were drawn at the sight of him. Sualk did nothing but grin.

"Hello boys. Miss me?"

/

 _Journal Entry: Log 1._

 _Dear Klaus. Well, Me. I am writing this note in case you forgot why exactly you had this book. Mistress Jaina suggested I make a journal to log my adventures and findings. I didn't agree at first but after she insisted I… reluctantly agreed. It may be of some use for later on, but for now I have nothing else to say._

 _Signed  
Klaus_


	2. Chapter 2: The Visit

Second Chapter. I was going to put more but... eh.

Maybe next time.

Also, I will soon be uploading the alternate endings. There are two of them.

One being the Lich King ending

The other being the 'Restart' one.

You'll see em soon, hopefully.

Anyways, enjoy.

"I mean, turning invisible whenever you want sounds… pretty neat."

"Only for so long. Personally, I believe the potion injections or kinetic shield are more practical."

Klaus rolled his eyes, listening to his miniature self(ves?) debating each other. It had been this way for nearly ten minutes, ever since they left the gnomes shop. These two… idiots were still talking nonstop about which armor module they wanted.

Klaus wasn't happy with any of them. He didn't want to be a potion addict, nor rely too heavily on a shield or invisibility field that could… quite literally fail at any moment. He had to remember that gnomish technology was nothing compared to imperial technology. If it was a techpriest offering him these items, he would accept in a heartbeat. Now? He would need time to consider.

He had walked back into the "castle" (he didn't exactly know what to call this shoddy pile of rocks, so that had to do) and was now preparing himself for meeting this guest. Mainly washing his hands of abhuman. Didn't hurt to be sanitary.

Now he was preparing for what would most likely, be a long and boring meeting regarding politics and the like. At least he could have something to drink while he had an aneurysm.

He knocked on the door of Jaina's bedroom, calling out her name. No response.

The guardsman furrowed his eyebrows. That was odd…

"Jaina?"

No response, yet again. Now he was suspicious. Usually it was he who was late to the meetings, not the other way around.

He slowly reached for his plasma pistol, unbuttoning from it's holster, holding it in both of his hands, and leaning on the door.

"Classic breach and clear!" Grenadier Klaus chuckled, rubbing his hands together in glee. Priest Klaus was much more hesitant.

"I have a bad feeling about this… shouldn't you-"

Klaus kicked the door open, scanning the room with his weapon before he locked on a target. An orc, to be specific.

"Xeno filth…"

Thrall rolled his eyes, as Jaina entered the room from a different door. The bathroom.

Klaus lowered his gun, mildly embarrassed at what exactly just happened. Jaina only smirked.

"Klaus, how many times have I told you not to point guns at guests?"

"I apologise, mistress Jaina. I assumed the worst," he said, giving a poisonous glare at the orc. Thrall chose not to say anything, as Jaina pulled up a couple of chairs, beckoning them to sit.

"Mistress Jaina, if I may ask… why is my presence needed?"

"Because I think it's a good idea for you to be aware of the whereabouts of the world, instead of being in your bubble. Now sit," she said, somewhat forcefully. Sounded like important business. He relented, and sat himself down, only now putting the gun back into its holster.

"So Thrall… what did you wish to discuss?" Jaina asked quietly, glancing at the orc warchief. He let out a short sigh, before his hands came together.

"I am stepping down, as warchief."

While Jaina let out an audible gasp, Klaus only rose an eyebrow. The orc had no more diplomatic immunity… if Klaus wanted too, he could take the shot...

"Why?"

"I hear the call of the elements, proudmoore. They call out to me. They have told me the world is in grave peril. I am going back to my roots, as a shaman. I cannot bear the responsibility as warchief any longer."

"Is that so? So who is your replacement?" Klaus asked. Thrall glared at the guardsman, letting out his response.

"Garrosh."

Garrosh Hellscream… he had heard much about the so called "Hellscream" family. How Garrosh's father, Grom, slew the mighty daemon that had enslaved the orcish race to their masters, forever freeing them from it's taint. Grom, who had slayed a demigod by drinking the blood of said demon lord, and one who was amongst the first of the corrupted xenos. At least, from the whitewashed slew that Jaina had spewed at him from time to time. He knew she wasn't telling him everything, but the history of a xeno meant nothing. Still, this 'Grom' seemed like a competent individual. Klaus thought little of the horde. They were nothing but a bunch of savages pretending to be something more. Perhaps this Garrosh would prove him wrong. Jaina seemed… completely at odds with this decision.

"WHAT?!"

"Garrosh has experience in the battlefield, and I have taught him much in leadership. He would be a fine fit for a warchief."  
"I agree, Jaina. Loathe am I to care about the politics of xenos and heathens, but if Garrosh is anything like his father, he would be a fine leader for the horde."

Both Thrall and Jaina gave Klaus a combo of a withering and curious glare. Klaus huffed, and began to explain.

"Believe me. I would much prefer a weak and spineless leader for the xeno horde, only so I can watch in joy as they tear each other to pieces, but Garrosh appears to be a good choice for a leader."

"You're serious?"

Klaus rose an eyebrow in confusion, giving the mage a glare as he spoke; "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Explain, Klaus. I am interested to hear your judgement."

Klaus gave the orc a venomous glare upon hearing that, letting out a sneer.

"Is that so? Very well. From what I know from the horde, it is run by multiple species. Similarly to the alliance. Based on the candidates available, that being the tauren, forsaken, trolls, blood elves and orcs, I believe the orcish race would be the best race suited for the role of leadership. The tauren have ties to nature and druidism, so while they may run the horde well peacetime, I believe they would struggle during the inevitable wars. The forsaken cannot be trusted as far as their rotting bodies can be thrown. The trolls are cunning, but their hatred for the elvish race may prove as a downfall in leadership. A blood elf leader may be seen as an alliance sympathizer, as I doubt their true loyalties to the horde are essentially nil. So, by my conclusion, an orc leader would make the most sense."

Thrall and Jaina both seemed surprised. Klaus had clearly thought about it for some time.

"Now, before either of you two say anything, yes, I have thought about it for some time. Only for the hope that you would make the wrong move. And you did not, so I suppose I should congratulate you. A congratulations for not forsaking your dream of a 'unified peace'," He grumbled, air quoting the part of unified peace. It was such a silly concept that he almost snickered at that part.

"Then I appreciate your thoughts, human," Thrall said, before turning to Jaina.

"I know why you may not like my decision, but it is too late to change anything. The burden of leadership is something I can no longer take."

Klaus giggled in his mind, gleefully eating up Thrall's words. He was a potent leader, and now surrendering his position to a new and inexperienced warchief was something he hoped the alliance could use to their advantage. He could not help but form the faintest of smiles, a little curve to his sealed lips that betrayed the thoughts he tried to hide. Jaina was at least aware of it, because she shot him a few glares while she tried to debate with her 'friend'. He unfastened his gasmask, reaching over to the table and grabbing his cup of tea. He brought the tea to his lips, taking a slow, drawn out sip while the conversation slowly transformed into an argument. Blissfully ignorant. Blissfully not caring. The tea had a nice fruity taste, a fragrant flavor that lingered on his tongue. Definitely worth drinking.

"Thrall, this wont make the political relationship better! Only worse!"

"Garrosh has the will to make the horde great, better than it could be before. I am not changing my mind. It's final."

Klaus almost forgot about the fact the alliance and horde were technically at war. It started right around 'Wrathgate'. Some, unimportant event to him that happened before he went to the undercity. He had… 'politely' asked Jaina to actively contribute to this war. Jaina shot down his requests every time.

"You are making a terrible mistake Thrall…"

"We can never learn if we never try."

"That sounds like something I would put on a plaque, not words of advice, xeno."

Thrall said nothing about that, only giving him a sideways glare.

The relationship Klaus had with xenos (non humans) was somewhat… complicated. Before his venture on Azeroth, it was rather bland. Extermination was the only right of passage any xenos child should ever experience. Now? Well, it was a tad more complicated. He didn't like when things were complicated. He missed the days were he could kill an orc or an elf, no questions asked. Now? There was nuance. He hated nuance.

He took note of the time. Twenty minutes down…

/

Hours. It had been torturous hours. It nearly bored him to death… But finally, the torture was over.

"So Klaus… what did you think of our discussion?"

Klaus hesitated to answer, simply due to the fact he was busy with something else. Sketching the two moons in the sky. The lunar cycle on this planet was puzzling, to say the least. Klaus only recently noticed how… dense, this planet was. Dense as in gravitational strength. It certainly was something to believe, and only now he noticed how uncomfortable it was. He supposed he only realised it in times of peril. Or, actively trying not to fall asleep.

"Mistress Jaina, I will be completely honest with you. I was not paying attention."

Jaina only smirked, flipping a page in her book. The two of them were lounging within her personal quarters. Klaus was only here for his job, but it was no surprise nothing happened. No assassination attempts, no terrorist threats, no nothing. It almost bored him. Scratch that, it DID bore him. Jaina suggested he invested in a 'hobby'. Whatever scheme she was trying to get him in, he would not fall for it easily. That easily at least.

"I figured so. I did want to ask you something personal though."

Klaus shrugged, starting to shade in the night sky: "Let's hear it then."

"When you were there… at Icecrown. Did… did you kill The Lich King? Arthas?"

Klaus lowered his book, looking her straight in the eyes. She was concerned, but more then that, she seemed… scared?

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry for what I had to do to your former lover, but I had no choice."

"I'm aware… I'm aware. I always wondered… if he still remembered me for who I was."

"I'm sure he did. Somewhere behind that… decaying physique, he remembered you for the woman you were and how you inspired him to live on, and to fight for what he thought was needed."

Jaina shifted her position on the mattress, the sound of her robes ruffling against the soft sheets of her bed.

"Klaus…did you know what happened? You know what happened at Stratholme?"

"Stratholme… I believe. The culling of Stratholme. Arthas took his men in that city to fight the dreadlord. Am I correct?"

"Somewhat. Arthas loved his people, and loved his kingdom. Too much. When Mal'ganis and the scourge came to Lordaeron, he was obsessed with bringing him down. When they came… came to Stratholme, Arthas wanted to stop them. Stop them, at all costs. Including slaughtering his own people."

"I appreciate the… recap? But what does this have to do with anything?" Klaus asked. The way Jaina looked at him quickly made a connection in his brain. That was NOT the right thing to say.

"What does this have to do with anything?" She mimicked, her voice filled with tranquil fury. "WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING!? I COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM KLAUS! I COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM FROM MURDERING ALL THOSE PEOPLE, FROM TAKING HIS MEN TO NORTHREND, FROM KILLING MURADIN, FROM TAKING FROSTMOURNE, TO RAZING HIS OWN KINGDOM TO THE GROUND! I… I could have stopped him! If I had gone with him, maybe he would never have pursued such, vile goals and desires! I was a coward, I didn't even attempt to stop his rampage, and it's something that I think about every day of my life!" She yelled, tears dripping down her face at a noticeable rate.

"But what would you know about emotions?! About feeling something! The only connection you ever had was the glass jar you crawled out of!"

Klaus visibly flinched at that, and the reply that came from his mouth clearly let out his mood.

"A product is not designed to feel emotions, Mistress Jaina."

Jaina only stared at him with teary eyes, before she pointed at the door.

"Get out."

Klaus didn't hesitate. He rose up from his chair, doing a quick salute, before walking out the door, and closing it shut.

He waited outside the door for a moment, before he heard her sobs being muffled by what he assumed to be a pillow.

"That girl has some serious problems…"

"Can you really blame her? She's been through some stuff."

Klaus ignored his personalities, going back to his dorms. His duties had been fulfilled for today. It was time for a well deserved rest.

/

"Emotional, Egotistical, and Authoritarian. It's like we never left the imperium."

"I'm trying to read here."

"Should we apologise?"

"Why? We have nothing to apologise for."

Klaus ignored the two of them, going over the notes. It had been at least an hour since the… 'event' that had happened. Though he certainly felt an… urge to console her feelings, it wasn't his business. However, Priest Klaus and Grenadier Klaus certainly thought it was. As usual, they bickered about it, and tried to drag Klaus into it, a conversation that he stayed out of to the best of his ability.

Going over the notes left by the researcher, he had discovered some rather interesting information. He had deciphered a few extra pages while he had time before he went to bed and the results were interesting.

This senior researcher had a name. Clovis Ragloom. Born on Terra itself, a leading mind in most forms of sciences, eventually worked for the Adeptus Mechanicus under the biology wing. He was appointed senior researcher after the previous one died to an… 'incident' no far after. Clovis stated that he had only been on the planet for around a month before he began to hear what he described as 'a voice so powerful, i thought the emperor himself was whispering within my ears.' the note ended promptly there, before going on about studies of the plant life and local ecosystem at the drop point.

Seeing that the base was in the middle of a desert… it made him wonder whether that infernal desert in Kalimdor was always like that… or there was another location?

As he started to think about it… things didn't add up. The chainsword he had gotten when he was first here could not have aged 3,000 years and still be usable without some major flaws. Though he would never denounce imperial tech, even a weapon like that would not function properly for that long in the desert. There was also the fact that the site in Ashenvale existed for an odd reason. He would request Jaina to take him there, he supposed.

As Klaus circled another word, the tip of his pencil broke. He rolled it away, reaching for another only to find that it was missing. He had four on the desk, five on his person. He must have left one in Jaina's room.

"Well, I suppose we will have to go back anyways."

He got up from his chair, taking a candle with him. One thing he didn't like about Azeroth is that these primitives didn't know what a lightbulb was. Or an LED, for that matter. Gunships were fine, but not internal lighting he supposed.

Klaus opened his door, and began to walk down the dark hallway towards her chambers. The trip was silent. Not many were up in the castle at this time.

"You know… it would never hurt to get to know these people a bit more."

"I suppose not, but it's not our problem. We are guardsman. Having acquaintances isn't part of the job."  
"Well, neither is this."

"Baby steps, Priest Klaus. Baby steps."  
"Whats a baby?"

Klaus rolled his eyes, as he slowly opened the door.

"Mistress Jaina? Are you awa-"

Klaus only had a few seconds to process what was in front of him before he acted upon it immediately. Jaina had been muffled, chained, and was about to have her throat slit by several undead assassins. Klaus quickly reached into his holster, whipping out his plasma pistol and firing three shots at the assassins. The one who held the knife to her throat was incinerated, the decaying body stumbling away from the mage before it dissolved into ash. The other two dodged the shots as fast as they could, the bolts of molten energy slamming into the stone walls, dissolving the bricks into liquid.

A fan of throwing knives were sent in his direction. Klaus quickly grabbed the door, letting the wooden door absorb the blades.

"Kill the intruder! We cannot let the plans fail!"

One of the undead assassins lunged forward at Klaus, holding a large, curved dagger in its hands. Klaus tumbled with the corpse, tossing him out the door and into the hallway as he tackled the other one, beating it's head in with the butt of his pistol. In return, he felt a blade being shoved upward into his thigh. The guardsman winced, but only for a moment, before he grabbed the assassin by the head, smashing it into the bedframe. Of course, this did not do much. He felt an arm wrap around his neck, the previous assassin having lost the knife in the scuffle. Klaus only fired another shot with the pistol, this time at the assassin in front of him. Predictably, not much could be done to stop him or the shot incinerating him. One assassin left.

Klaus reached over, trying to shoot the final undead with his pistol, but it grabbed his hand, misdirecting the shot elsewhere. The bolt of plasma struck the door, burning a hole straight through it and damaging the walls in the background. Klaus continued to try and punch the assassin as best as he could, the air slipping out of his lungs as he began to suffocate. His punchers became weaker and weaker, as the edges of his vision began to wane.

"Some bodyguard you were, human-"

Suddenly, Klaus felt colder. The sound of ice cracking and hissing…

"I had him."

"You didn't. Can you get me out of this?"

Klaus slowly inched himself away from the now encased undead, moving over to Jaina and removing the bonds that were latched onto her wrists.

"You were free to use your magic at any time."

"I certainly tried, but these chains had some sort of nulling effect. I felt the mana… burning within me."

Klaus glanced at the shackles that were now in his hands, his interest piqued. As Jaina looked away, rubbing her wrists, Klaus quietly slipped them into his coat for… study.

Jaina glanced around at her now ruined room. Stone was dripping from holes in molten liquid, which would sooner or later set fire to the wooden floors. That was quickly frozen as well.

"Klaus! You're bleeding!"

"That's not the concern. What the concern is… what do we do with him?"

/

 _Journal Entry: Log 2._

 _Though the battle at The Frozen Throne was a few months ago, the whereabouts of my compatriots from our realm surprisingly evades my grasp. The information I know is few and far between, and my contacts either don't seem interested enough or they simply choose not too. As far as I am aware, Lofn has taken a new life in the Kirin Tor as a mage. Being a psyker and not chained to the arcane, elements, or fel… the chances of her climbing up the ranks are relatively high. I know Bluddflagg has taken a new life to pirating. Robbing the villages and shores of both Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms for as much… 'booty' as his greedy hands can carry. I know this due to one of his "retired" compatriots. Some young man named Conrad. I may interrogate him further for the location of the warboss. If he proves to be much of a problem, I will have to kill him. Legion has still been missing, and despite my attempts to bring forth the warp entity, my attempts have failed. As far as the necron and my heretical twin has gone… I am not sure. The Necron no doubt is still out there, filling it's own agendas while Sualk... Well… I do not know. I only hope that he died on Icecrown. But evil does not die that easily._

 _Signed  
Klaus_


End file.
